


Irreversibly Contaminated

by andymcnope



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Space, F/F, Farscape!AU, Gen, POV Alternating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-20
Updated: 2014-10-20
Packaged: 2018-02-21 21:47:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2483588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/andymcnope/pseuds/andymcnope
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Root is an Earth astronaut who ends up on a living ship with a ragtag crew of space beings, including a duty-oriented soldier with really strong thighs. Farscape!AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Irreversibly Contaminated

**Author's Note:**

  * For [willowcabins](https://archiveofourown.org/users/willowcabins/gifts), [drhollystewart](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=drhollystewart).



> Birthday gift(s) for willowcabins and drhollystewart. 100% unsolicited but I had an epiphany moment and this is the result.

 

 

1a.

 

Sam Groves is having a really bad day.

 

It didn’t start off bad; just nervous (rattlers in her stomach) as she prepared for her third space mission. Not that the first two really mattered, because this one— this was _it:_ a chance to prove her theory; an experiment that had the potential to alter life on Earth for the next several millennia.

 

Until her equipment went haywire, and her vision collapsed into a show of lights spreading and crackling into minuscule spiderwebs, stretching into endless ribbons and flashing, always flashing.

 

And then the light is gone, and in its place she sees floating rocks.

 

“Canaveral? What the hell was that?” She asks, ignoring all protocol about communications. Silence is her response, and she feels strange inside her spacesuit.

 

She worries about oxygen depravation, wonders if that’s what the light show was; but the gauges show O2 levels are steady. She tries again:  “Canaveral? Do you copy?”

 

The rocks in front of her appear to part as she drifts aimlessly; her slingshot theory couldn’t have sent her to the asteroid belt. She should be seeing satellites and the moon and lit up cities in the far far east of Earth. 

 

“This is callsign Root. Does anyone copy?”

 

Her first realization that she’s not, in fact, anywhere close to home is when she sees _it_.

 

It is nothing like anything she’s ever seen; ever dreamt. It is slick and light reflects off it with a glimmer, hundreds of thousands of dark lines are etched in what she can only describe as the hull.

 

And then Root feels the pull of gravity and there is nothing she can do about it.

 

*

 

1b

 

Sameen Shaw is _also_ having a considerably bad day.

 

She wakes up to the remnants of the starburst effects; her skin still crackling and the slight nausea that she stills suffers from going faster than the speed of light. Her head hurts inside her flight suit.

 

Her orders were clear as day, and she realizes she’s failed to stop the prisoners from removing the Leviathan’s collar, and Captain Hersh would not take her failure lightly.

 

Of course, her pretty shitty day gets considerably shittier when she notices she has a cellmate; the creature looks like her own species, but has no armor, no apparent skill as it walks towards her. “Hi, I’m Sam. Or Root. That’s my call sign, you know, back home.”

 

Shaw frowns at the words before her training kicks in; probably delayed from the likely concussion. She takes the hand that was reaching for her and twists all of her weight until the creature is beneath her, using her knees to keep pressure on either side of its head.

 

“Why are you out of uniform? What is your rank and regiment?” Shaw demands, because this creature might not _look_ like a Peacekeeper, but she gives it the benefit of the doubt.

She’s heard of runaways, soiled by external influences, a lifetime of duty eradicated by exposure to other lifeforms. Those are not just traitors, they were the worst type of enemy a Peacekeeper could face.

 

The creature doesn’t reply, and Shaw notices movement outside their cell; she jumps to her feet, ignoring the gasps and wheezing coming from her cellmate. “Get us out of here, slug!” Shaw screams as she tries to reach through the gaps.

 

“I am His Royal Highness Fusco the Sixteenth, or I would be if my cousin hadn’t stolen my throne and gotten me arrested,” the Hynerian replies.

 

Shaw scrunches her nose at the smells coming off the prisoner; or - her mind corrects her: _former_ prisoner. She is the one behind bars now, in a Leviathan ship full of Peacekeeper-hating lifeforms.

 

“What’s a Peacekeeper?” the cellmate asks, before turning towards the Hynerian. “Hey, Kermit, I’m not one of her kind. Get me out of here!”

 

“Sure thing, when you ask so nicely,” the Hynerian spits back, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Oh, great, look who’s coming our way.”

 

Shaw sees the Luxan first, impressive height for a sub-species. It doesn’t smell like the Hynerian for one.

 

“I am John R’eese,” he states in a manner almost similar to a Peacekeeper’s; Shaw’s read about the Luxan warriors - they are impressive, but sometimes prone to weaknesses such as emotions. Some claim that’s also where their strength comes from, but Shaw has never seen emotion win a battle.

 

(She might though, before it’s all over.)

 

“And I’m Joss Carter,” the female’s voice is almost like music; she looks harmless but Shaw knows of the rebellion led by the now-priestess. “Come, now,” she says as she unlocks the sliding bars. “You must eat.”

 

Shaw is painfully aware that she could not underestimate this crew.

 

*

 

1c

 

Root looks around the rounded walls as she is led by the strange beings; it is nothing like the ISS or any ships she has seen on Earth. Her body hurts where the damn translator microbes went in - not that instant-translation of the words coming out of these aliens’ mouths helped her understand anything with more clarity.

 

“This ship,” she asks as she ignores the aches in her wrists from the cuffs. “What is it?”

 

The female - Joss, Root remembers - turns and tilts her head in confusion.

 

“It’s a Leviathan,” the large warrior explains. “It’s a biomechanoid.”

 

Root frowns, hands reaching out to touch the walls. “It’s.. it’s alive?”

 

“Of course it’s alive,” Joss offers as if Root were questioning the obvious - which, as it turns out, she is. 

 

“Do you talk to it?” Root asks, still brushing her fingertips across the curves of the wall before the warrior tugs on her cuffs.

 

“Not exactly,” John replies. “But we talk to Finch, the Pilot in symbiosis with the ship.”

 

“Her name is Moya,” Joss adds as they get to an area that is set up like a mess hall.

 

“A machine with a name,” Root comments as she sits for the meal.

 

“I am afraid I have some very bad news,” an almost metallic voice states. Root looks at the screen-like device on the wall, where a hologram of a serious-looking creature appears. The top of its skull is shaped strangely, giving the alien a surreal appearance while its eyes make it look more human than the rest of the crew so far, including the strong-thighed commando sitting next to Root.

 

She watches as the soldier slips a piece of silverware in her leather uniform jacket, her face daring Root to open her mouth. 

 

Root doesn’t.

 

“The ship’s pilot just informed us we need to get supplies, or we won’t be able to starburst again.”

 

_Starburst_ \- the word echoes in Root’s mind. She thinks of the flaring stars she saw on her way to this strange world, remembers seeing them, spiderwebs expanding in large bursts. She wonders if she’s made the right connection.

 

(She has and she hasn’t, she will learn. Knowledge will pour into her mind and spill over in fits and starts, breaking the bounds of her sanity. The burst of stars she saw wasn’t the organic jump that Leviathans could produce, but something far more dangerous and far more special. It will put her and everyone she will love in danger.)

 

“We’re landing shortly,” Joss informs them, “You two gotta go back to your cell.”

 

Root watches as R’eese slams the Peacekeeper’s arm down, the silverware slipping out. The woman doesn’t show a sign of disappointment as she pops another food cube into her mouth; if anything she looks smug as all eyes turn to her.

 

 

*

 

1d

 

 

“Wormholes!” 

 

The exclamation echoes in the cell as Shaw tugs at the sliding bars of the cell; they don’t budge.

 

“Einstein was right,” the cellmate adds with unadulterated glee; it’ s not a sight Shaw’s used to. Also Shaw doesn’t know who or what is Einstein, nor does she care. 

 

She tugs a little harder.

 

“I need to find another wormhole— or create one?” 

 

“Listen, if you want to get back to your friend Einstein on your planet Erp, we’re going to need to break out of this cell,” Shaw points out. There’s this underlying curiosity in the other woman’s eyes, and it makes Shaw feel uncomfortable; it’s not something she’s accustomed, but it’s more than just curiosity as well.

 

“Einstein’s not my friend,” the woman replies, “though I did spend a whole semester writing a thesis, so it does feel like I kind of knew the guy, you know what I mean?”

 

Shaw glares the most annoyed glare she can muster. “No, I don’t have a single clue what you mean. At all. I just want to get out of here.”

 

The other woman blinks twice, stands up and starts walking towards Shaw. “I guess bonding time is over, then; this is going to make a pretty short entry on my scrapbook when I get back home. Do you guys have scrapbooking in— where are you from again?”

 

“I’m an officer with the Pleisar Regiment,” Shaw recites. It’s familiar and safe.

 

“Is that like the alien Marine Corps or something?” Root asks as she reaches Shaw by the bars.

 

Her hand comes up, and Shaw considers fracturing it before she sees the reflection of light against shiny metal; it’s an utensil just like the one the Luxan had pried out of Shaw’s sleeve. 

 

Shaw grips it, presses the woman against the wall and touches the metal instrument to her jaw; the woman’s height allows her to look down at Shaw before she speaks.

 

“You’ve gotta bring me with you,” the woman demands.

 

Shaw rolls her eyes, but she really needs to get down to that planet if she is to have any chance of rejoining her regiment. She lets go over the pressure she’s been holding, feels the weight of the other’s body as it slides down the wall, knee pressing into Shaw’s thighs.

 

It reminds Shaw of their earlier exchange, Shaw’s thighs tightening around the woman’s head. There’s a warmth spreading low in Shaw’s abdomen; something she has not felt in a while.

 

(Her species has perfected its system when it came to fulfilling carnal needs; Shaw could be assigned a mate if she so wished during any of her downtime. Unassigned mates happened too, but with extra restrictions. Revisiting the same mate more than five times was cause for reassignment or worse. Shaw’s never made it past three.)

 

She gets some distance between them, jams the metal into the lock and twists it until the hydraulic system wheezes and the door slides open.

 

“What are we doing?” Root asks as she follows the soldier down the halls. 

 

“We need to incapacitate the ship; sabotage it,” Shaw explains as she seeks key areas on the ship; one of her least favorite things about Leviathans, no two are alike.

 

“We can’t!” Root argues. “It’s a _living_ ship, you can’t hurt it!”

 

Shaw stares. “You’re joking, right? This Leviathan has no control collar; she and her Pilot could wreak havoc with this entire system, not to mention the criminals that it typically houses. The ones who are down in the planet we need to get to!”

 

“You’re right, you’re right,” Root agrees as she catches up to Shaw as Shaw turns down a corner. “Which is why we can’t waste time messing with the ship. We should go to the hangar area and make our way down to that planet. Come on, this way— I think.”

 

Shaw has a feeling she is being played, but she ignores it in favor of getting out of this situation as soon as possible.

 

*

 

1e

 

Root does stop to realize she’s _on_ an alien planet, but the sounds of traffic and civilization are as familiar as New York City. Not that she was used to NYC when she first stepped foot there either. But the commerce planet moves and thrives around her and she’s forced to move, to stay close to the Peacekeeper officer; she hears her companion radio the troops, but Root doesn’t move, just clings to the human-looking alien with dark hair and strong legs.

 

“Captain Hersh,” Root hears the officer say and looks up to see the squadron approach them on foot.

 

The man obviously in charge walks up to them, stands toe to toe with Root. “You… you killed my soldier,” he accuses. “With your white ship.”

 

Root frowns. “Your soldier’s right there,” she points at Shaw.

 

“Not this one; Officer Cole, her partner,” Hersh adds.

 

Root sees surprise cross Shaw’s face before it’s replaced with its usual stoicism. “I didn’t kill your officer,” Root says again.

 

“Take her away, she will be charged with the death of a Peacekeeper,” Hersh adds, and soldiers surround Root, reaching for her limbs; she knows they won’t just take her prisoner; this is a death sentence.

 

“Wait,” Shaw adds after a beat or two. “She may be valuable. She says she’s a… human.”

 

“A hooman?” Hersh asks, circling a wide range around Root now; it’s somehow worse than his previous gaze; she considers what some humans might give to study other species. 

 

“Yes, and I don’t believe she is… brave enough, or skilled enough to attack one our prowlers intentionally,” Shaw adds; there is no emotion to her voice, just the tiniest of glimmers in her eyes as she speaks, her eyes holding Root’s gaze.

 

“Exactly how much time have you spent with this human?” Hersh questions.

 

The soldiers look at one another, the doubt and suspicion spreading like wildfire.

 

“Not a lot,” Root offers quickly. “Not much at all.”

 

(Root will wonder later if that was a death wish. Her mother said she had many of those; probably what gave her the determination to go to space. It’s not something she ever outgrows.)

 

Shaw stares at her, the line of her jaw very still in her uniform.

 

“As you know,” Hersh says, “We have very clear parameters regarding contact with unclassified alien life-forms. You may have very well exceeded those parameters, Officer Shaw…”

 

“No, sir,” Shaw argues; the defiance is not new, but Root can see this act of rebellion is absolutely foreign to the soldier.

 

“…you may have been irreversibly contaminated,” Hersh concludes. “Take them all away.”

 

*

 

1f

 

R’eese is captured and brought to their cell; he glares at the two of them before he leans against a wall in resignation. 

 

Shaw pays him almost no mind as the soldiers frisk them; her own unit is holding her captive. Everything she has been trained for is evaporating. Her partner is dead, and while Command would certainly assign her a new one, the knowledge brings an unfamiliar pang to her torso, like something is squeezing between her lungs.

 

“It’s a toy,” Root explains to one of the guards who removes her necklace. “See?” The soldier breaks regulation and takes his eyes off the prisoner; Shaw’s not sure how the kid passed his exams with this kind of sloppiness.

 

Root pulls the gun out of the soldier’s holster when he’s not looking, brings the stun gun to the guard’s neck in one swift move. His unconscious body falls to the ground, the second soldier following suit.

 

“Unlock me,” R’eese demands in a gruff voice when Root grabs the keys to the cuffs.

 

“No, unlock me,” Shaw asks, thrusting her hands at Root. “He’s a criminal.”

 

“We all are,” Root points out. “You will get us off this planet and back on that ship,” she instructs R’eese. “All of us.”

 

R’eese shakes his head. “I can’t do that.”

 

“If she stays, we all stay,” Root offers the ultimatum as her hands become free again. “And while I’m sure we can find something fun to do down here, I think we would all prefer being up there instead. Even if it is together…”

 

R’eese grunts in reply, but Shaw shakes her head.

 

“I can’t go, I have to stay,” Shaw resolves. She knows what Root is doing; doesn’t know why.

 

“You can’t,” Root points out. “You’ve been irreversibly contaminated, remember?”

 

“I’ve got a job to do,” Shaw argues. “It’s what I’ve been raised to do. I am a Peacekeeper.”

 

“You can be more,” Root argues as she pulls on the woman’s arms. Shaw stills herself at the words, lets the human undo her cuffs. 

 

*

 

1g

 

Root finds that there’s a console-like area of the ship, where she can always see the Pilot; the equipment is partially destroyed, likely from the prison break, but she sees controls; they’re nothing like the ones on her ship, but there’s still some kind of recognition as she examines them.

 

Shaw stands nearby, shoulders slumped; Root wants to say something, but she doesn’t know what, so she just focuses on the technology in front of her.

 

“There’s a Peacekeeper vessels en route to us,” the pilot - Finch - says.

 

“Can we shoot at it?” Root asks.

 

“Of course not,” Carter replies, as if the very thought offends her. “Leviathans have no weapons.”

 

“What about the starburst thing?”

 

“She needs to rebuild her strength,” Finch says. 

 

Root looks at the planet as they slowly drift away; it reminds her of her experiment, the one that landed her… well, wherever she is now.

 

“I’ve got an idea,” she announces. “We have to head back towards the planet,” she adds. “We have to use the orbital forces to propel us tangentially.”

 

“This is madness,” Fusco argues. “We should not be listening to _her_ of all people.”

 

“Do you have a better idea?” Root demands. “Because if not, then my plan is _it_ , Kermit.”

 

“What’s a ker-meet?” Fusco asks.

 

Root ignores him as she relays the instructions to the pilot, who seems rather hesitant; but as the Peacekeeper ship approaches them, Finch’s limbs move on the screen and the ship begins approaching the planet once again.

 

“Give me controls,” Shaw demands.

 

R’eese laughs, “Right.”

 

“I’m serious,” Shaw insists. “I know how they operate. I can begin evasive maneuvers your kind don't even know about.”

 

“Let her,” Carter orders.

 

R’eese huffs under his breath but leads Shaw to a control that resembles a podium. The ship begins a barreling descent in Shaw’s hands, the ship’s internal gravity the only thing keeping them all from rolling like tumbleweeds.

 

They avoid the first four shots, but the fifth one makes partial contact; Root bites her lip as they continue heading towards the planet, almost crossing into the atmosphere.

 

“You have to get us at an angle,” Root explains, moving towards Shaw’s. “Twenty eight degrees, like this,” she demonstrates with her hands. “Can you do it?”

 

Shaw just stares for a few seconds. “I can do it,” she finally adds, hands maneuvering around the controls with expertise.

 

They lunge forward as Root had planned; she feels giddy and terrified as she watches their trajectory change, the stars on the horizon seeming to move as they head towards them.

 

**Author's Note:**

> This is meant as a standalone piece but I am now absolutely fascinated by the idea of Shaw/Root waging war with the universe, running from everyone to protect the knowledge within Root's mind. 
> 
> Imagining Shaw tasting rain for the first time on fake!earth, the two of them sharing a /moment/... Root using the soulmate drop from the Princess planet and kissing Shaw; Shaw walking away stoically because a smile breaks through.
> 
> I'm obsessed with the idea of the Machine giving birth to a weaponized hybrid baby named Samaritan, piloted by Hersh (and later Claire). 
> 
> I NEED IT ALL.
> 
> (and like - this almost doesn't work bc John/Aeryn is often so... fulfilled but then I remember every single painful moment and god that could work so much)


End file.
